14 August, 2019

As I'm wandering amidst the tall cedar trees, I realize there is a purpose burning deep within me, an aim akin to the central point of a dartboard, a desire to reach somewhere, to find something.

Or someone.

So I walk and walk, looking all around me, touching the barks of the trees, my feet stomping over the fallen leaves. And then I spot him.

"Dawn!" I scream, seeing a wide smile bloom in my face. The happiness is so pure, so natural, that it makes me feel awed at the simplicity of the emotion. He is leaning against a tree in the distance. I know which tree it is, and I know he is looking right at me, and he is smiling as well.

So I run over to him, like all the times I would when he would return from his village at the end of Christmas vacation, my heart soaring in joy, beats more rapid with excitement. This time, I will catch him. This time, I won't let him disappear from sight. He is right there, right within my reach. My Dawn. I will hold him in my arms and tell him how much I love him, how grateful I am to him, that I am not mad he chose to hide so much from me, that we can finally be together again just like we're meant to be.

I reach him and he is still right there, smiling at me beautifully like he always does: his radiant, innocent Dawn-smile. His green eyes liven up the greenery of this forest—it's all so vibrantly green that I feel as though I am in heaven. I am so happy, so happy that I could die.

"Cedar," he says, in his soft, tender, thin voice, "you have come so far."

"Hmm?" I don't really know what he is talking about, but it doesn't matter. As long as he is there, I don't care about anything else.

"I hope you will always remember that there are so many people who love you."

I see my smile slowly drop. A sudden fear crawls in at the tone of those words, the hint of a farewell in between the lines. My chest tightens up.

"And even if there aren't," Dawn says, looking at our initials carved on the bark of the tree, "just remember, always, that someone named Dawn Ambers loved you very much, his whole life."

When I look at the bark of the cedar tree, I find the letter D almost faded, while the C & is carved deeply and clearly.

"No," I whisper, my hand slowly raising, my fingers trying to reach him, like that stormy October night, when I saw his eyes for the last time.

The last time.

Why . . . is he here? He is not supposed to be. He is-

This is not real.

"No, don't go," I beg, and try to hold him back, stop him from leaving me again, or leaving me in general—but he fades away. I move my hands in the empty air, as if trying to grasp whatever particles of him that may remain, as the letter C from the tree also begins to fade . . .

---------------------

When I blink my eyes open, heart drumming violently in my ears, I find the room still enveloped in faint darkness.

There are tears rolling down my temple, the pillow under my cheek wet. I feel something icy cold wrapped around my waist, as well as pressed against my back. For one, hazy moment, I imagine myself frozen inside an iceberg, pale white skin, my body stuck in time, endlessly young. The thought fades away. I am in his arms, and time is a fleeting bird of melancholy.

For a while I just lay there, gaze fixed on the wall, nearly holding my breath, savouring the feel of his presence with every inch of my skin, every fiber of my existence. I raise my own arm and place it over his on my waist, gently interlocking our fingers. The longer I stay that way, the more I feel a smoke of insanity diffusing slowly from a corner of my mind. This feeling of him lying beside me, holding me close, in the serenity of dawntime, inside this tiny hotel room—it's awfully beautiful, boundlessly ethereal. I didn't know anything in this world could feel like this.

Overwhelmed, I turn my head back, hoping to meet his gaze. But I find his eyes closed, an expression of great tranquility clouding his face. He is sleeping, peacefully drifting in a world of slumber. I smile, and then I admire him. My eyes itch, some of the sleep still clinging to it, but I keep staring at him unblinkingly, my shoulder beneath his chin, his hand in mine, the tip of our noses almost touching. I'm so close to him. I've never been this close to someone. I never imagined I would. My heart is restless yet calm. It all feels so unreal.

A long time passes before I have an abrupt realization.

July hasn't moved a single inch this whole time. Because he is sleeping.

But July doesn't sleep.

Momentarily, my heart halts, my gut giving a sudden twist. I prop myself up on my elbow with a jolt. His arm slips from my waist. He remains entirely unresponsive.

"July," I call. No reply. "July? Hey." This time I shake him. Also no reply. My heart begins to throb so fast that I suddenly feel like I'm about to die. "July! Wake up. July?" Tears cloud my eyes as I begin to calculate the days in my head. But I can't think of anything properly. I have lost all sense of time. What day is it today? Is he gone? Is he gone just liks this? Why? What happened? It's not supposed to be like this. I close my eyes and shake him rapidly, chanting his name again and again like a stubborn little child throwing a tantrum. It's not supposed to be like this. It can't be like this. God, you can't do this to me.

Not again.

Suddenly, a hand grips my wrist tightly. When the cloudiness of my mind disperses, I hear my name being called in a familiar voice. "Cedar, Cedar! What happened? Cedar?"

I open my eyes, and see him with his eyes wide open, holding a look of shock and worry, but clearly awake. I blink several times to make sure I'm not seeing it wrong. No, he is right here, his hand on my cheek, calling my name. What did I see just now- another hallucination?

"Cedar, are you hearing me?" he asks, his voice laced with worry.

"Tha- th-tha-" I shake my head. "I- I th-tho- you-"

"Huh? Is it because I was sleeping? Oh God, I was- wait, don't cry." He wipes my eyes, which were filled with unshed tears.

"I thought you were gone," I say in a low whisper, the sound of that sentence sending shivers through me.

"No, of course not," he softly says, running his fingers through my hair. My heart is still drumming wildly, unable to calm down. "I was just sleeping. Very deeply, I suppose. Which is why I didn't hear you at all. I really didn't think you would panic. Or else I wouldn't. I'm so sorry."

"But- but you don't sleep." For a moment, I wonder if I'm dreaming, or still under a hallucination. This must be either of those. Maybe my sudden distinguishment between that and the reality is what's making me so confused.

July shakes his head. "Lie down, first." He pulls the arm that I was using to support myself and straightens it until I am lying on my side. He stays propped up on his elbow.

I can see the moles dotting his entire neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his grey sweatshirt. I get the urge to touch them, but this is a dreamscape. My fingers might pass through. Are dreams supposed to be so detailed, seen with so much clarity?

"The face you're making right now, so filled with confusion, tells me you're thinking this is all a dream," he says, with a chuckle.

"Huh . . .?"

"Cedar, snap out." He snaps his fingers once in front of my eyes, making me blink repeatedly. "You're not dreaming! Listen, the thing is, it's true that I didn't use to sleep. But now I can."

"What?"

"Yep!" He pinches my cheek. "It's because Dawn's wish is fulfilled!"

"What?!"

He laughs. "That's right, you better believe it. The conversation with your mother was the key, after all. Anyways, I had the chance of being granted a wish if I managed to finish the mission early. And I asked for the ability to sleep. I really didn't have a single good sleep in the last few months of my life. But tonight, Cedar, oh God. I had the most wonderful sleep ever!"

There is so much happiness in his face as he says this, but I still can't process anything beyond Dawn's wish being fulfilled. Dawn's wish . . . that complex, vague wish. So it's done? It's all over now? It doesn't even feel like I worked that hard for it. Will Dawn be in peace now? I wonder what he thinks about this. And also, does that mean July will also go to heaven? Isn't that how it was supposed to work?

So it's really over.

But why . . . don't I feel happy?

I realize that there is also a feeling of dry, cold sadness mixed with everything else that I'm feeling. A sense of finality creeping along the walls of this room. The mission of fulfilling the wish is over, and soon enough, what lies between me and the wish-fulfiller will be over too. In the blink of an eye. Forever.

"Cedar," July calls softly, the back of his hand caressing my cheek. I raise my eyes to him. "Are you thinking unnecessary things again?"

"If- if the wish is done, then does that mean you'll leave early?"

"No I won't," he replies. "I will leave when it's time, not before that."

"Oh . . ." While the fear is replaced by relief to an extent, there is still a tight knot in my heart. But I shake my head. "I'm sorry, what did you say about sleeping? You were granted a wish, so you can now sleep?"

"Yes yes!"

"Like a nor. . . just like me?"

"Yes yes!"

"So just now, you were sleeping?"

"Yes yes! Though I was too deep into it, it was almost like I was unconscious. Maybe it's because you're so warm and soft and and cozy and cuddly and-"

"Warm?"

"Yes yes! I can suddenly feel temperature too, you know? I didn't really ask for it, I think it came as a package deal. Or like a gift. But I can feel the warmth of your skin now, Cedar."

I don't know what to say to that. I don't think I'm processing anything that's happening right now. Is this really not a dream? If it's a dream, then will July have to leave? I shake my head. I will think about this later.

I say, "Then . . . it's still early, go back to sleep." I lightly push his head back to the pillow, and he shuffles a bit to lie down properly.

"You're not gonna say anything else?"

"I . . . don't understand what you're saying at all. Go to sleep."

He flicks my forehead. "You're still half-asleep! You always act weird when you're half-asleep. I thought we were going to celebrate."

"Huh . . .?"

This time he facepalms. "Okay, forget it. Let's really just go back to sleep. Come." He puts a hand under his temple, staring at me. His lashes are so long. So pretty.

I look elsewhere, still somewhat confused, though I don't know about what.

"Can I hold you?" he asks.

"Hmm." I nod, my cheeks warming up.

He puts a hand at the back of my head and pulls me closer, my face against his neck. He has no scent, but his presence feels stronger than before. This time, his arm is around my shoulder, fingers caressing the back of my head. I squeeze my eyes shut, once again feeling overwhelmed. I am, once again, melting in his embrace. And I think I need to be held like this at all times.

Is this why people will keep leaving me? Because I always end up needing them too much?

I put my arm around his waist, fitting myself into every fold of his body, like a piece of puzzle being set into where it belongs.

And then I fall asleep, hoping I never wake up again.

-----------------------

"So . . . it's really fulfilled?" I ask, fanning July with the Dead Poets Society.

The sudden awareness to Greenwoods' 32 degrees heat is driving him a little insane. And what's worse: the electricity is gone. And there's no generator in this motel. Not like the fan did much to reduce the heat anyway. Even the air created by it was hot.

"Yeah, it absolutely is." He rolls up the sleeves of my shirt and unbottons three top buttons. "I saw Dawn in my dream last night."

My eyes widen. "You too?"

"You saw him too, huh?"

I nod and tell him what I saw.

"Mine wasn't that elaborate. Just a Thank You."

"That's it?"

He nods. "I didn't really have the chance to say anything. I just remember everything was white."

"Does that mean your mission is complete, so you'll go to heaven?"

"If God doesn't break His end of the deal." He laughs.

I let out an exhale. "I'm relieved. I could have never forgiven myself if you failed."

"If that happened then I would've just-" He abruptly seals his lips.

"You would've just?"

"Ah, nothing. But what I was saying, is that I don't think I would've failed anyway. These wishes, this second chance, I don't think they're a mission, they're just disguised like one. They're more like . . . an opportunity for me to fulfill my unfulfilled desires. At least that's what I deduced."

"Hmm . . . then what was Dawn's unfilled desire?"

He shrugs. "Something related to you, undoubtedly. Maybe instead of doing it directly, he did it through your brother, by making sure he becomes strong enough to be there for you. Maybe he is also the reason why Destiny became close with Dale. I suppose Dawn wanted her to have another older brother figure in her life."

I slowly nod. "Makes sense."

"It's okay, you can stop now." He takes the book from my hand. "If you keep fanning it like this, it might get torn. Your first gift from Dale."

"Hmm." I still feel a weird rush of happiness every time I remember Dale is the one who bought me this book. "Are you feeling too bothered by the heat?"

"I'll get used to it, don't worry. Anyways, now that everything's over, and I'm free of any worries, what shall we do to celebrate?"

"Celebrate?" I try to think of something. "Shall we go out somewhere?"

"Bingo!"

We decide to look up places to visit in Greenwoods on my phone. There are quite a lot of tourist attractions, but many of them are inside the forest, so we deduct that from the equation for now.

The most interesting place we find inside the forest is a huge banyan tree with a total of 140 plastic bottles hanging from the branches, called The Tree Of Hanging Memories. This tree was was first discovered in the 20th century and has been preserved carefully since. Apparently, each bottle is filled with different types of regular items: bracelets, letters, keys, rings, hair ribbons, lipstick, or just a piece of cloth. No one knows how these bottles got up there, but it's assumed that these items belonged to the girls who lived in an orphanage nearby.

"I can't believe we wandered the forest so much and still didn't come across it," July says.

"Well, it's a national heritage spot, so it would've been a protected area anyway. Otherwise, there's no way all those bottles and the things inside them would've lasted this long."

"True, true."

After a bit of digging around, we find that there's a big lake in Greenwoods too, predictably named the Lake Greenwoods. The long bridge that passes over it is a famous spot for lovers. There are lots of local folklores that originate from this lake. There are boat rides available for tourists.

"Wanna go here?" I ask July.

"Isn't it a bit expensive? Will you have enough money to go back?"

"Hmm . . . I'll have to check." Though I had a lot of money after leaving Tiara's home, I have realized that it doesn't take long for money fizzle out, even if you're being careful with spending it. The motel room may cost lower than average, but since I'll be staying for four more days, it will still amount to a lot. And then there's the cost of the meals.

"Oh! How about we go here today?" He points at the screen.

"Ah . . . this is it."

---------------------

"This is . . . this is . . . soooo beautiful!" July exclaims, running ahead of me.

Meanwhile, I am so filled with wonder that for a moment I just stand still on my tracks, mouth hanging open, awestruck at the sheer beauty of the scenery in front of me.

Right beside the Greenwoods Lake, a massive expanse of greenery stretches, dotted by hundreds of bright yellow sunflowers, standing tall, swaying lightly in the breeze. An unfamiliar, unique scent reaches my nose, not too strong but not too faint. I have only seen sunflowers in photos. In real life, they are so vibrant, and so huge.

There are a few more people around, some sitting by the bank, others walking amidst the flowers, taking photos. I find myself wishing we had this whole place to ourselves, so that we could run around and laugh together without a care.

When July reaches the edge of the field, I find that many of the sunflowers are taller than him. I smile and run over to him.

He is looking up at the flowers. "Can you believe this? They are so tall!"

"I once read somewhere that they can grow up to twice the height of humans," I say, after making sure no one's watching.

"Woahhh." He touches the stems. "The ones at my school weren't that tall. Maybe they weren't fully grown. Come on, let's go in!" Without waiting for me, he moves two flowers in front of him on both sides to make way, then rushes into the garden.

"Hey, wait for me!" I glance at the lake once. The afternoon sun is not too far from touching the gentle waves of it. I follow him in.

The leaves and stems brush against my face and my bare arms, making them itch and sting. I keep my eyes squinted and pointed downwards as I walk amidst the plant. The scent is stronger here, but still foreign and indescribable.

Soon, I am completely enveloped by a thick blanket of flowers and leaves. When I look up, I see sunflowers peeking against the backdrop of the clear, blue sky. A butterfly with maroon wings flies over me. I follow it with my eyes until it disappears amidst the leaves. Overcome by a paroxysm of childish joy, I begin to run, cutting through the garden, letting the flowers hit me, laughing in enthrallment at the wonders of God's creations. This feels good, almost liberating.

After slowing down a bit, I call him, "July!" I move around as I try to spot him. "Hey, July! Are you here?"

I stop walking, then look back, finding the same scenery as the other three sides. In my rush of excitement, I forgot to keep track of which way I'm moving, and how far. And I don't really know how far the field stretches, and where it ends.

A sudden wave of anxiety washes over me. "July?" I call again, louder this time. "July!"

But there is no response. The people who were taking photos didn't go to deep into the field because of how dense it is. Maybe July didn't come this far either, and went back out to look for me.

I facepalm.

There is no way I'm lost. Again.